


A Thing Called Belief (In Big Guns and What Shepard Says)

by traitorhero



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Hackett is a badass, The Council is annoying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traitorhero/pseuds/traitorhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They asked why he believed in Shepard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thing Called Belief (In Big Guns and What Shepard Says)

There were two things that Hackett relied on. One of them was his Predator Mark V, having been with him throughout his career. It had saved his life on more than one occasion, before he merited the protection detail befitting an Admiral (even if he sometimes wished it wasn’t necessary).

The other one was something that these Councilors still didn’t understand. Even now as they invited him to a private conference room, he had a feeling that they were looking for a way to spin this. To once again denounce someone who had done the impossible. Shepard has saved the galaxy, and no politician was going to tell him that it wasn’t a good thing. That Shepard deserved condemnation instead of commendation. 

Frankly, he didn’t want to hear it. But as one of the highest ranking and most respected officials, he had the honor of working as the temporary Councilor for humanity. He could understand why Anderson had left the position as soon as he was able to.

“Admiral Hackett,” the asari Councilor said in greeting. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“It is always my pleasure,” he replied, continuing the political dance.

“Do we really need to stick to the political niceties right now, Tevos?” Primarch Victus asked. “Your message implied that this was to be an informal meeting of the Council.”

“It is,” the salarian Councilor agreed. Hackett glanced at him, wishing that he could read their facial features with more ease. Compared to the asari, who were similar enough in their expressions to humans, or even the turians, which he had learned during the First Contact War, salarians were almost impossible to read.

“Councilor Valern, Primarch Victus, and I,” Tevos said, “had been discussing the war, and its beginnings. About how Earth, even being one of the worst hit, managed to hold on and mount a strong resistance on such a short notice.”

Hackett raised an eyebrow, and took a seat across from her. “I don’t think that’s the question you mean to ask, Councilor.”

“The question is fair, Admiral,” Valern said.

“I agree with you,” Hackett replied. “But it is not the question you called me here to ask.”

“The one thing their training in politics won’t let them ask,” Victus said. His mandibles twitched, giving the turian equivalent of a smirk. “Since I’m no politician,” he continued, “I’ll ask. Why did you believe Shepard?”

Hackett leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Shepard was - is,” he corrected himself, “one of the best damn soldiers I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my command. Stubborn and strong-willed, but able to get the job done. Never one to shift blame. But I get the feeling that doesn’t answer your question.”

“Not completely, no,” Tevos said.

“It does for me,” Victus replied. “A good soldier is one I would believe in. But as I said, I’m not a politician. If you gave me a gun and told me that using it would bring peace, I’d ask you where it needed to be pointed.”

“An apt description, Primarch,” Hackett said with a nod. “But not one that describes Shepard. Not entirely. 

“Our N7 program doesn’t just look for brute strength. Humanity gained a reputation from the First Contact War, as I’m sure you are all aware. So the men and women accepted into the program aren’t there to fire a gun. Our ninety percent dropout rate comes from those who don’t know that.”

“I don’t see how this is relevant,” Valern interrupted.

“You asked why I believe in Shepard,” Hackett said. “This is a part of that.

“In the Alliance Navy, even completing N1 means that you are to be respected, not just as a soldier, but someone who knows how to be diplomatic if the situation arises. Shepard was among those to complete the program, and I’ll admit, I was surprised. Anderson recommended this kid who just made Lieutenant. If I had been the one in charge, I would have said no,” he added with a small smile. “I had other officers; ones I believed were more dedicated to finishing the program. Can you imagine where we’d be if that had happened?”

“Probably dead,” Victus said. “I suppose it was a good thing you weren’t in charge then.”

The salarian Councilor got up and went to stand next to the window. His hands clasped together behind his back, the slight reflection in the window showing only his eyes. Hackett waited for another interruption, but when none came, he continued.

“Shepard surprised everyone by completing N1. Some of the officers I had recommended didn’t. So I kept an eye on the kid. Not a close one, but if anything of note came across my desk, I paid attention. Then came Akuze.”

Hackett sat back, rubbing his eyes. The images from that day played behind his eyes. It would probably haunt him while he slept that night, laid over the horrors of the war with the Reapers.

“A thresher maw took out Shepard’s entire squad during the N6 testing. It wasn’t pretty. We were lucky to have half that were recognizable. The brass wanted to make the problem go away quietly, and to that end discharge Shepard. Maybe pass the blame along onto the kid, save themselves from the shitstorm. Anderson told me to talk to the kid, to read the reports. I read the reports first. They were straight to the point, walked through the entire debacle. It even explained how Shepard survived, trapped beneath an overturned truck, trying to radio their cruiser for support.

“I was sold. Didn’t need the kid to relive that nightmare. So I told the brass that Shepard was a hero, and should be commended. They ended up giving Shepard the N7 designation. I was shifted into the head of the N7 department.”

“They were hoping that you would remain out of sight, correct?” Valern asked, still looking out the window. “You were probably not expecting to be advanced again. Similar things have been done in our military. It generally does not work.”

“It didn’t. I was good at my job,” Hackett said. “Eventually someone noticed and promoted me. But while I was in the position, I got to know Shepard. Out of all the reports I read, I knew Shepard wouldn’t fudge the details in the reports. If anything, the reports understated things. One of the last missions I oversaw exemplified that.

“There was a small mining facility on the edge of the Terminus Systems, about three hundred workers and families. Shepard was there on a bland assignment, dealing with some wildlife that was troubling the civilians. Some mercs, mostly batarian, decided that it would be a good idea to raid the colony. From the reports I was given, it was made out to be something small.”

“I remember the incident,” Tevos said, interrupting him. “It almost caused an incident with the Hegemony, and probably led to the problems at Elysium.”

“I think you mean battle, Councilor,” Victus replied. “Most problems,” he quoted with his talons, “don’t end in bloodshed.”

“The Hegemony had felt threatened by the expansion of humanity,” Valern added, rejoining them. “The colony in question abutted batarian territory, as did Elysium. The raid on the mining colony was one of many during that time. It was inferred, but never proven, that the behavior was encouraged by the Hegemony. Of course, the actions on Torfan -”

“Were regrettable,” Hackett said. “The main contributors to the massacre had their own issues with the batarians. Given enough leeway with their mission parameters, they acted on them.”

Tevos held up a hand, halting their discussion. “Neither side was in the right, but their withdrawal only hurt the batarians. If they had come to the proposed mediation we might have been able to reach a treaty or concordat that benefited both.”

“Regardless of what actions could have been taken,” Hackett said, “it led to our research of orbital cannons. At the time it was too cost prohibitive, but we were able to manufacture a few hundred units before the Reaper invasion. They saved a lot of our citizens, and bought time for our evacuations.”

“But why build them in the first place?” Valern asked. “You had no reason to believe Shepard, especially after the destruction of a mass relay.”

“Councilor, there are many differences between the races on the Citadel and in Council space. This has been a recognized and respected part of our coexistence. I have given you the reasons why I believed Shepard, even if they may not sound like them to you. There is no one else I know that has the same strength of will, or courage to get things done. No one else could have created a treaty between the krogan and the turians, especially with the deal your Dalatrass tried to broker. Shepard wrote everything down in the report.”

Valern opened his mouth to object. Hackett tilted his head, the simple gesture begging for a rebuttal. Victus turned and glared at the salarian Councilor, his mandibles twitching, but he made no movement to speak.

“But most of all,” Hackett said, “I know Shepard. If I were to receive a message saying that a merc band was taken care of, I would have no doubt that the matter was closed. There’s a human saying that describes it. We call it trusting our gut. Now, I trust Shepard in the same way I trust my gut. My belief comes from knowing a soldier that would lay down their life for anyone else in the galaxy, and almost did. Whatever happened to make the Crucible fire, Shepard almost died, and is at this very moment lying in a hospital bed, in a coma. And where would we be if that sacrifice had not happened?”

Hackett took a deep breath as he stood. He tugged on his jacket, smoothing out a few of the wrinkles. “I came to this meeting thinking that you would try and dishonor Shepard. I was right, but in such a way that I could not imagine. You still don’t trust Shepard, even after all the things done for you. For your people. For the entire galaxy.”

“No one has said -,” Tevos began.

“And they will not say,” Hackett interrupted. “Not directly, at least. But you forget, Councilor, what happened when Shepard died last time. It began quietly, with a denial of the facts Shepard brought before you, then a re-imagination of what occurred. Eventually Shepard was cast by the wayside, looked up to, but seen as someone who wasn’t worthy of recognition. I,” Hackett said, pointing at the asari Councilor, “will not allow that to happen to one of my marines, to one of my respected comrades again. Because Councilor, no matter what dirt you may have on Shepard, I assure you that I have just enough to hurt you as well.”

“Was that a threat, Admiral?” Tevos asked. She stood, her gaze turning icy.

“Consider it a warning, like the beacon at the Temple of Athame,” Hackett replied. “Now, Councilors, Primarch, forgive me, but there are matters at the human embassy and on Earth that require my attention, as I’m sure you must attend to as well. Good day.”

Hackett walked out of the room, nodding to the turian officer standing guard. His own protection detail sprung to attention around him, awaiting orders. Hackett waved them forward, setting the pace at a brisk walk, leaving the conference room far behind.


End file.
